


A Shaft of Sunlight

by clutzycricket



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: F/M, Griff is a failboat, Of the teasing kind, Sibling Love, he gets it from his dad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-23
Updated: 2016-10-07
Packaged: 2018-06-03 22:04:22
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,215
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6628429
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/clutzycricket/pseuds/clutzycricket
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Continuations of my haunted house fic, Season of Mists.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Season of Mists](https://archiveofourown.org/works/5071840) by [clutzycricket](https://archiveofourown.org/users/clutzycricket/pseuds/clutzycricket). 



Bran blinked at the voice, male and laughing and because _Sansa_ was laughing, too, in that way that meant she knew she probably shouldn’t be but was too amused not to.

It had been a long time since he’d heard that.

“Oh, yes, I remember paying your bail money for _that_ ,” a woman’s voice, very familiar to Bran though he couldn’t quite place it. “River wept, Griff, I wasn’t sure who was going to kill you first- Da, Mum, or Arianne for having to act as your lawyer.”

“Really, Kit, I’m not that bad…” the man paused, and Bran opened the door.

…And was confronted by _Rhaenys Targaryen_. There was an actual actress at his sister’s door, answering in a ratty sweater and hair in a tail. “Oh, you’re Sansa’s brother Bran, right? She mentioned you.”

He was going to kill Sansa, because while he could see Arya doing something this mean in a heartbeat, Sansa was supposed to be his _nice_ sister. Sansa was beaming, possibly because she remembered how he’d stayed up to marathon that horror show the other woman had been in and woken up with screaming nightmares.

“Hi,” he managed. Robb would probably be smoother, he thought. 

(Well, a voice like Arya at her most pointy thought, he’d probably try to hit on her.)

“It’s nice to meet you,” she said, enormous purple eyes lit up. “My brother was just confessing to his various escapades. It might be nice to have more people to needle him.”

The blue-haired man who had been sharing a couch with Sansa looked betrayed. “Kit, you are a wicked woman and it’s a wonder anyone trusts you, with you running around encouraging embarrassment.”

“Do you remember the geese, Griff?” she said, crossing her arms.

He flushed. “So, Bran, do you have any embarrassing stories to share about your family? Please?”

Sansa shot him a look, and he smiled innocently. 

“Well, there was this time when Sansa was fifteen…”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> becauseforoncethisisme asked: Character of your choice gets pampered. Whether it's a spa day, someone they love doing nice things for them, or something else is up to you.

Sansa had… not nightmares, precisely, but the odd set of nights where it felt as if her mind was not her own, when she woke slowly and as if her muscles were no longer under her control, and her dreams were vague and unsettled.

She hated those nights, which had only started when she had moved to Summerhall, when Joffrey had… died. 

( _Died_ was the easiest word for it, a tiny corner of her mind had decided, and there was nothing to change her view of the matter.)

Most nights, when she was able to pry herself up off the bed, she wrapped a blanket over her shoulders and made a cup of tea, sipping it until it was finally too cold to drink.

About three weeks after she started spending the night in Aegon’s guest bedroom, all scattered notes and mismatched furniture, her dreams turned to shadows, and she woke to violet eyes and shock-blond hair.

Griff apparently did not believe in sleeping with clothes, and even as Sansa could barely twitch, she knew she was blushing horribly. “Sansa, you alright?”

“Mmm,” was all she could manage. Griff helped her up, and her worn sleep shirt suddenly seemed all too thin and revealing. 

“C’mon, sunshine girl, let’s get you on the couch,” he said, tucking her horribly tangled hair behind her ears. “…And I should probably put on pants. Pants would be a plan. You know you were screaming?”

“Sorry,” she managed. He scooped her up, and yes, she was _still blushing_. She was nearly as tall as he was, after all, and couldn’t be light.

“You were having a night mare… literally, actually,” Griff mused. “It looked a bit like sleep paralysis. We can look into that, see if there are ways to prevent it…”

She shook her head against his shoulder, smiling. “Always trying to save me,” she said groggily. “Sweet prince.”

“Oh, please, do you really think anyone else would put up with me?” he laughed. “Now, Netflix and snacks? I’m good as long as it isn’t one of my sister’s costume dramas.”

She fell asleep watching some silly comedy, Aegon’s blanket over her. He’d taken the time to throw on some shorts while the popcorn was cooking, at least, so she wouldn’t be too terribly embarrassed in the morning…


	3. Chapter 3

Rhaenys was supposed to be _happy_. They had spent the past three weeks reviewing everything she was going to do, Elia risking one of her rare free and healthy days to buy her a new outfit for her audition. And Rhaenys had aced it, practically dancing her way out of the theater.

Elia’s husband, drat the man, had predicted that there would be a problem when it came time for them to take Rhaenys and Aegon back to Rhaegar. She’d brought Alia along, the toddler’s unknowing cheer the only noise in the car.

She’d have to say _something_. He has nothing to be upset about, Elia told herself. After all, Rhaegar had decided to take her to a parapsychologist without asking her permission, and look how that turned out.

“Dad, we’re home,” Aegon shouted, before running up the steps. “Bye, mum, see you!”

“Could you come with me?” Rhaenys asked, indigo eyes wide and teary.

“Of course,” she said, putting the toddler down. “I wish your brother had stayed to take care of Alia.”

“Please, Griff forgot his homework and has to finish it before Dad inspects it,” Rhaenys rolled her eyes, looking like a proper fourteen-year-old for once as they went to the study.

“Elia? What’s wrong?” Rhaegar looked up from his papers. “I heard Aegon shouting, but since that’s his normal method of communication…”

“Nothing is wrong,” Elia said before Rhaenys could comment. “Your daughter has brilliant news, and you are going to be properly congratulatory.”

“Did you decide to apply for the engineering internship after all?” he asked, smiling. “That’s good, I told you…”

“I got into a play, actually,” Rhaenys said, wringing her hands. “Quite a big part, actually.”

“That is wonderful,” Rhaegar said after a moment. “Not what I expected, but wonderful. You need to tell me when opening night is, so I can make sure I’m free. What’s the play?”

Rhaenys blinked. “ _Carmilla_ \- Mrs. Hightower adapted it herself, I’m playing the heroine.”

He looked at her, then at Elia, that evaluating look on his face that Elia privately thought he should leave at work. “Why don’t you look happy?”

“You were supposed to talk me out of it,” Rhaenys said, so quietly Elia nearly didn’t hear. “It doesn’t match your plans for me, after all.”

He didn’t react for a very long time, and Alia was losing interest rapidly. “I want you to be great, and I believed- still believe- you can do great things in the sciences. But if you want to do great things in the theater, well, then. I will see what needs to be done.”

So close to being a normal, caring human being, and yet so far. Elia shook her head and scooped up Alia, ignoring the slight pain. Maybe she shouldn’t have driven. 

“Besides,” he mused. “There isn’t anything that says you can’t be both. Wasn’t there that actress who invented a radio type, I can’t remember her name…”

Elia shook her head again and said her goodbyes to her older daughter.


End file.
